


Chapter Fifty: March or Die

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [51]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers: Beast Machines, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Gen, Ghosts, Guerrilla Warfare, Haunting, Other, Possession, Undead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 14:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3940243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Vehicon-controlled Cybertron, Silverbolt and his team on board the <i>Lost Light</i> fortify their position against Obsidian and his drones as the general unleashes his assault, only to meet resistance from within his own troops when newcomers up the ante. </p><p>The question on Silverbolt's mind: are they the Maximals' allies or merely partners of convenience?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter Fifty: March or Die

  
Our forests die, the stranglehold  
That we put on the earth for gold  
Will yet increase ten thousand fold  
And no one knows what for

—["March or Die"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7Ml9IvpED8) by Motorhead, from March or Die

 _Lost Light_  
Iacon Harbour  
Cybertropolis, Cybertron  
Three Hundred Stels from now

Arriving on the bridge, Stormrave and Braddore were greeted by a single, headless Autobot, slumped over the communications console. Outside, Obsidian's battle with the single Autobot flier was at a stalemate. 

"Hard to kill an opponent who's already dead," Stormrave muttered.

"Small blessings." Braddore's tone took a dive into sarcasm. "Skyfire, me son, what now?"

_< <Primary weapons control is on starboard side of the comms; get the system booted. We'll see if there's anything still live in the stores.>>_

"Not likin' this, Stormy," Braddore grumbled, still locked on the battle outside.

"Keep reminding me, I've forgotten the last fifty times you've said that," the defected Vehicon retorted, darting as directed.

Studying the panel, she flicked a few switches, the panel sluggishly coming online. "Picking this up, Sky?"

_< <I'm seeing it, yeah — okay, we have some photon missiles in store. Stormy, can you operate the targeting system?>>_

A targeting screen flickered online, displaying enemy troops in violet. "Oh, can I ever!" 

_< <Six photon charges are loaded; each one has a blast radius of fifteen metres at close range. Make them count, Stormrave.>>_

 

*

 

Outside the _Lost Light_

 

The abomination refused to submit. 

Tactically, Obsidian knew the issue: laser was most effective against those with organic composition, technologically adapted or otherwise. It burned; it scorched. Megatron's virus locked down the transformation cog, then shut down the processor, before sending out his drones to extract the spark before collapse and extermination. The laser fire was brought on when the Maximals were reformatted, calculated for efficiency. The technorganic shells were less resilient to laser fire than the old-school designs which, at first, seemed the best course of action.

Which meant they were ineffective against a full-size Autobot, and a dead one at that.

"Lord Megatron, I fear our firepower is ineffective against our opponent — " Obsidian cut his hail short. "Ship's weapon systems cycling online!"

_"Obsidian, use the drones as distractions and infiltrate the ship! Go!"_

"At once, Lord Megatron!" Obsidian willed a fire team of aerodrones to cover his dive under shadow of the ship, just a photon charge exploded overhead. One entrance thus far had been found, a blast through the side of the ship, and there was a large, headless Decepticon guarding the opening.

The dead Cybertronians — they were illogical, as was this ship. Obsidian attempted to piece together the facts, but, judging by the lack of control on Megatron's part, the Vehicon commander was just as much as a loss to figure out what was happening. 

But first, how to get past the Decepticon.

"Strika, redirect command of a tank platoon to me," he requested. "I need concentrated firepower at my mark."

 _"I'll send what I can spare,"_ the HAV commander reported, _"but I've met ... resistance."_

"Animated Autobot shells?" Obsidian asked.

Dead air lasted ten clicks. _"Obsidian, what is going on?"_

"I aim to find out, by our lord's command." Pulling up above the existing battle, he observed the chaos; the dead Autobot helicopter was maintaining a vantage atop the bridge of the ship, shooting down those drones who made it through the photon blasts. "Aero-drones, five-deep left echelon on zero point, he willed, with copters five-deep right, seven degree apex, and concentrate fire on the Decepticon."

As far as he could ascertain, the headless Decepticon had no firepower, but it was tough — a Phase-Sixer, if the legends were true. He ran a match through his database for the body type in the background as six tank drones rolled into position behind him, at the cliff's edge. Rising above his copter-drones, he monitored the situation. It's enough. "Tank drones, concentrate on the Decepticon and open fire!"

Keep calm; that was the trick. The tanks powered up their turrets with a loud whine.

Now the Autobot at the stern took notice, its single, lifeless optic turned to where Obsidian was orchestrating his breakthrough. The change in direction did not escape the Vehicon general's attention. "All available aero-drones on port-side concentrate fire on the Autobot!"

His front echelon opened fire on the headless Decepticon, lasers scorching the air with ozone. The port-side flank did as instructed, focusing on the Autobot. Neither attack was yielding result, until the tanks opened fire, causing the Decepticon to step back on the defencive. No online weapons — unlike the Autobot. _A prisoner?_

Three feathered blades shot out from behind the 'Con, taking out as many aero-drones. As they plummered to the harbour, the copter-drones from above took their place.

"My lord, Maximals are on board the ship!" Obsidian announced, reverting to vehicle mode to join the echelon formation. "The sentry is weaponless! Target the Maximal and fi—!"

A copter-drone body-checked Obsidian with a strut-rattling crunch, and the two plummeted. Obsidian transformed back to robot mode to dislodge the drone, with the first thought being that the Decepticon had thrown it. 

Except the drone was now throwing punches at the general's face.

"The sparkhacker's on board! Fall back!" Obsidian ordered, bringing up his claws to defend himself. Cycling his gatling, the general freed one arm and fired into the drone's face. His attacker whipped its head away from the salvo at the last click, though its left optic and the side of its face caught the edge of the attack.

"Frag! That hurt, gashole!" the drone shrieked, slamming its head into Obsidian's, tumbling with the general. Hitting the tarmac, Obsidian lost consciousness from the impact.

_"Obsidian, report!"_

The drone dislodged, shaking itself off as it maintained a half-limping hover, recalibrating its gyros. 

_"Obsidian!"_

_Open comms. Interesting._ "Oh. Hey! Obsidian's the gashole I just fragged over, amiright?"

_"Who the hell is this? Starscream, I will rip out your spark — "_

"Please. Starscream wishes he was as cool as me. And, FYI, it's raining — Obsidian, right? — Obsidian clones all over the place. So — and feel free to correct me, 'cuz I'm horrible at the logic slag — I'm guessing you're Obsidian's now aft-hurting boss?"

_"I repeat, who the hell is this?"_

The drone was about to retort when another, this one aero-drone, approached its right, placing a hand on the copter's cockpit. "You are addressing the crew of the _Lost Light_ ," the aero-drone retorted, a controlled, cultured contrast to its companion, "and you will call off your attack."

A quarter cycle passed before Megatron spoke again. _"And the alternative?"_

"We frag your buddies, then we go after you," the copter laughed.

"Our sparks are freed of the mortal coil," the jet explained with a guarded patience. "Destroy the shell we occupy, we move on to the next. As long as you continue to send drones, we will continue to protect our home."

_"Then I should warn you of the Maximal infestation already on your ship."_

"We will deal with these...Maximals...accordingly. Have we reached terms of disengagement?"

A calculated pause, this one stretched well over a cycle. _"I leave you to your ship, and you in turn will destroy the Maximals on board."_

"You will leave us to our ship," the aerodrone stressed, "and we will deal with the Maximals accordingly."

_"And if I refuse?"_

"We are two hundred sparks, for which you are providing the shells for hosts."

"So do the fragging math, sluice-sucker!" the copter chortled.

"And judging by the size of your force of empty drones, it would only be a matter of cycles to locate your base. And as you have witnessed the carnage caused by my —"

"—frenemy—"

" —crewmate alone, you will have a difficult time attempting to overrun us with sheer numbers."

_"I warn you, you do not want me your enemy."_

"Too fraggin' late for that — "

The aero-drone glared at its companion. "Nor you, us. Call off your drones. This is your final warning."

Another lengthy pause ticked by. _"Then it is agreed: a truce, for now. In a show of good faith, I would like to know to whom I am addressing."_

"I am Cyclonus of Tetrahex," the aerodrone stated. "Any further parley may be conducted through the _Lost Light's_ comm systems. You have fifty clicks to comply to these terms." A gesture, pointing upwards, before the possessed Vehicon shot up.  
The copter with the head wound remained, looming over the unconscious general, cycling on its own gatlings online.

"Whirl!" Cyclonus barked.

"Fraggit," the copter growled, following the jet to the breach.

 

*

 

On high alert, Silverbolt prepared another volley of throwing knives as the headless Decepticon staggered back from the tanks' high-powered assault. He had been able to down three aerodrones — at one time _his_ aerodrones — between bursts. It was small blessing that the ship was Autobot, or at least old Cybertron tech, else the Vehicon firepower would have by now whittled the hull to nothing.

The firefight outside was silenced.

"Maximals, sit-rep," he ordered, on guard.

 _< <Vehicons are pulling away,>>_ Skyfire reported. A quarter cycle later, he added, _< <Stormrave and Braddore are saying the same. They're retreating.>>_

"Or refortifying," Silverbolt clarified, approaching the breach. "Remain on guard."

_< <Hold your attack, 'Bolt — two drones approaching for parley!>>_

"Drones don't parley!" Silverbolt snapped as an aerodrone entered the hold, hands by its side.

"No, I'd imagine they normally don't," the jet retorted as a copter-drone joined them; where the former was collected, the copter fidgeted, its head sparking from a wound where the left optic would have been. "I will ask who you are, what you are doing in our home, and why these — Vehicons — are after you."

Silverbolt furrowed his brow, lowering his hands but not completely standing down. "We are Maximals, descendants of the Autobots; I am Silverbolt."

"Oh, I got it! And the Vehicons are trying to wipe you from existence!" the copter-drone guessed. "Nice to see things haven't changed since we, you know, got fragged."

"Whirl, enough," the aerodrone growled.

"You were of the crew?" Silverbolt questioned, straightening to his full height.

The aerodrone nodded, a simple, short gesture. "Please continue, Silverbolt." From the tone, the please was not intended out of politeness.

It did nothing to ease the Maximal warrior out of his defensiveness. "As for why we're here, our -- physicist -- is trying to shut down the malfunctioning generator on board your ship before it takes out half the planet. I extend my apologies for the trespass, but please understand -- "

The aerodrone held up a hand. "Enough. It is ... enough."

"So the genny's malfunctioning again?" the copter drone -- Whirl -- questioned, folding its -- his -- arms over his chest. "Well, big surprise there, not like it doesn't do that on a semi-regular basis."

"It may explain why we were drawn back," his companion retorted. "I am Cyclonus."

"Not a Decepticon," Whirl hissed, waving his hands in front of him in a nixing motion. Cyclonus gave the copter a scathing glare. Ignoring his stoic companion, Whirl continued. "So, anyone care to explain why my shell's out there fragging Obsidian clones and I'm here?" A beat before he brought his attention to Cyclonus. "I've confused myself again."

"We're dead, Whirl," Cyclonus's tone took a dive, as though explaining a concept to a protoform. "We've been dead for quite some time. We were awoken, likely by the reactivation of the generator." The jet furrowed his brow. "An abomination in itself."

"Abomination. I can live with that. Or whatever I'm doing right now." The copter studied his hand, wiggling the digits. Cyclonus growled, but said nothing more of the matter.

Silverbolt figured the two, while teammates, were not friends. "Will you help us, then? We are -- "

Cyclonus held up a hand. "I do not feel it prudent to go over plans until we can deactivate the communications in these shells. We have called a truce with the Vehicon commander, but I have my reservations on whether he intends to keep his word."

"Megatron is not one to honour a deal," Silverbolt spat.

Whirl held up a digit. "Wait, Megatron? Speaking as someone rather intimate with most things Buckethead, who we talked to didn't sound like Megatron."

"Likely a namesake with delusions of grandeur," Cyclonus explained.

"Then it's true all the good names are taken, 'cuz I just realised your name is Silverbolt," Whirl shrugged, before pointing a finger at the behemoth in the doorway. "And if I can be the observant one and point out the fact that I just only now noticed the headless body of Overlord looming over us in a threatening manner?"

 _«That would be me; I've been using him as a door,»_ Skyfire announced. _«I'll fill you two in once we get your comms taken care of. Braddore, can you come to the breach? We need your help.»_

"The nerd reports, nonchalantly. So mind if I ask how the headless body of Overlord is on our ship?" Whirl stressed, frozen in the gesture.

 _"Yes, friend Silverbolt, ask them why Overlord is on board an Autobot vessel,"_ the seductively smooth voice from before hissed in Silverbolt's audio receptor. The Maximal furrowed his brow but said nothing.

 _< <I found him in a prison room below the engine level,>>_ Skyfire answered. _< <He was headless when I found him. Do you remember what happened here?>>_

Whirl dropped his arm, looked at Cyclonus for an explanation, then shrugged. "Details are fuzzy on my end. Hornhead?"

Cyclonus said nothing, only turned his head to regard the albatross Maximal approaching the parley. 

Braddore slowed, head bowed as he eyed the two possessed Vehicons warily. "Silverbolt, what's this about?"

"What the hell's 'aboot'?" Whirl demanded, but was ignored.

"You are the medic?" Cyclonus questioned. "We require your services to remove the tracers within the shells."

"Oh. Well. Question?" The blue and maroon avian raised one winged arm. "I'se really thinking we'se in deeper slag than we'se ever been, me sons."

"Technically not a question, goony," Whirl retorted.

"Your observation," Cyclonus bowed his head, but kept his optics forward, "may be closer to the truth than we wish to admit."

 

NEXT CHAPTER: Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Stormrave belongs to Enfilade; Braddore belongs to her husband; inuarai belongs to Jmercedesd; all other original characters are my creation.


End file.
